


Haze

by BloodRedRidingHood



Series: I'll Be Your Shield [5]
Category: Captain America: The First Avenger - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: 30 day challenge, ALMOST Character Death, Character Wounds, F/M, Injured Natasha, OTP I'll Be Your Shield, Steve freaks out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-20
Updated: 2013-07-20
Packaged: 2017-12-20 22:45:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/892781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodRedRidingHood/pseuds/BloodRedRidingHood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve was on his hands and knees next to her and there was so much blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Haze

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the delay, but here is Day 5!
> 
> Be sure to read parts 1-4!

Steve couldn't say what happened. The details were fleeting, merging with one another and then gone before he could grasp onto one.

He didn't like feeling this way. It left him feeling raw, exposed. He was Captain America. He was supposed to have control and composure.

She was dying.

They had arrived at medical over seven hours earlier. Since then, Steve had not left the waiting room, refused to let anyone tend to his wounds, wouldn't even speak.

Clint had been taken back and stitched up, and now sat staring at Steve. He didn't look concerned and it made Steve want to scream. It made Steve want to beat him to a bloody pulp.

His face was caked in dried blood from a gash on his forehead. His suit was ripped in several spots, and blood blossomed in palm-sized spots along the fabric. He knew his ankle was at least sprained from the limp he walked with. 

He couldn't feel a damn thing.

As he paced back and forth in the waiting room in a haze, doctors and nurses rushed passed him. Nobody stopped to talk to them, so he knew there was no news yet. 

The waiting was killing him.

After eighteen hours, the doctors came out. They talked for what seemed like forever, but Steve only caught pieces of what they said.

Her heart had stopped twice.

Severe damage.

Lengthy recovery.

She was awake.

She wanted to see them. 

Clint went in first. Steve sat down with his head in his hands. Finally, he let himself break down. He still couldn't put together what had happened in the factory, only that it had been tough, and then... 

And then Natasha got shot. And shot again. And she wasn't moving and Steve was screaming and running towards her and Clint was shooting arrows left and right and then silence as the last of gangsters was killed and Steve was on his hands and knees next to her and there was so much blood.

When Clint came out, he sat down next to Steve and put his hand on his shoulder. 

"She looks good, Cap," Clint said softly. "She wants to see you. Go."

And then Clint was gone. Steve composed himself and walked back to Natasha's room. She was laying in bed, propped up by several pillows. She was extremely pale, and tubes ran in and out of her arms, pumping her full of fluids. She smiled when she saw him, and he couldn't help but smile back at her.

"You look like shit, Steve," she said. Her voice was raspy. "You didn't let them clean you up?"

Steve walked to the chair next to the bed and sat down. "I couldn't," he replied. "I didn't want to miss anything."

She looked at him, her green eyes searching his face, and he felt anchored. He felt calm.

"You could have died," he finally said. "We just had hot cocoa in Midtown three days ago, and now you're here because you could have died."

She sighed and moved her hand across the bed. He took her small hand in both of his and brought it to his lips, kissing it gently. She closed her eyes and fell asleep, the ghost of a smile playing across her beautiful face.

Steve didn't leave. He put his head down, resting it on the bed next to her arm, and fell asleep, too. When he awoke the next day, they were still holding hands.


End file.
